≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
"Remember, sir, great successes come with great sacrifices."
December 27th, 1925
Lord Grosvenor's office in his London home was the most opulent office Tommy has ever beheld.
The office was the kind of workspace he strives to have; as of right now, his offices in the House of Commons, London, and Birmingham are only three-quarters of the Duke's.
The office itself had high ceilings with columns adorning the four sides of the cubicle room. A desk on one side of the room near the windows, and on the other far side lies a lounge where the lord could relieve his fatigue if he wished to do so.
Cabinets full of liquor and cigars lie near the double mahogany doors, facing high bookshelves filled with his journals, memoirs, and educational modules lined neatly. Organized by colour, Thomas noticed.
He had been invited to the Duke's home in Mayfair to discuss business before the Duke's departure to Birmingham that weekend. With tremendous consideration, due to the Italians everywhere, Tommy complied. He came the day after he met the Duke's wonderful daughters and fosters. The Duke has explained he couldn't move to Birmingham with his children due to his business in the House of Lords.
Thomas knew that already, at the explanation by a certain daughter of his yesterday. And his own eyes and ears that have reported such things to him. Irene Grosvenor, or should Tommy say, Lady Irene Grosvenor had undoubtedly left an impression during the span of their introduction.
An image that certainly left flashing memories in Tommy's head, leaving him restless at nights. Curious. Just now, he tried to recall the memory, only to make him smirk in the process.
That brat of an heiress was undoubtedly something else.
"So, I heard you've already met my daughters and foster kids." Hugh Grosvenor looked into Tommy's eyes. "And judging by the call I received last night, I can only guess they were hellish. They didn't sound anything near happy."
"Happiness is subjective, Your Grace-"
"Please, call me Mr Grosvenor."
"As I was saying, Mr Grosvenor. Happiness is subjective. We simply took the necessary precautions that someone would take when they're chased around by an Italian mafia, looking to sever their heads."
"Your men kidnapped them from the train station, Mr Shelby. If you weren't my business partner, I'd have you hanged by now."
Tommy's eyes slimmed like a cat's, "Again, precautions. Your daughters were seen asking around about where Mr Shelby is. What if they bumped into an Italian, eh?"
Those sentences seemed to silence the Duke, for now. The next two hours were used to talk about business. How Shelby Company Limited and Grosvenor Group Limited are planning to have a "lovechild" together, resulting in a baby company that they will make as a headquarter for their investing business in America.
The baby company, of course, will have each of the parent companies' representatives.
Tommy was already thinking Ada, or maybe Michael. They then discussed Grosvenor Group Limited's involvement in Shelby Company's import-export business, where they will open to hundreds of ports all around Europe.
Specifically, by courtesy of the Grosvenor Group Limited and in return, France will have a third of the imported goods, which they will sell at a much higher price. Since the imported goods are scarce, people will hog them. Not even questioning why it was highly-priced.
The Duke has also agreed to "lend" some of his men to the Peaks. When in a time like this, Tommy really needed those extra hands. The more men, the better.
"Do you know Alfie Solomons, Mr Shelby?" The Duke took a drag from his Cuban cigar, looking at the much younger business partner.
"Can't say that I don't."
That friend of Thomas' would pain him in the arse from time to time.
"Good, good. Then, would it be possible for us to be acquainted and Mr Solomons could join us on this ... venture? I heard he exports liquor to America as well."
"No, no, you got it slightly wrong. Alfie Solomons smuggles liquor into America." Tommy took a sip of his served Irish Scotch, looking at the vast greenery behind the Duke of Westminster's back. "Nevertheless, he's already a partner in my export-import business; maybe I could introduce you to him. Whenever you're ready."
"Ah ... Good." Hugh studied the man in front of him, his new business partner. He's very young compared to him, of course. But somehow, Thomas Shelby reminded the Duke of himself of when he was younger, when he was only a young Marquess full of passion for money, beautiful things, and of course, status.
Tailing his father, like Robert would as of now, around. Observing, studying, taking mental notes of what to do and what not to do.
He was young but very determined to prove himself in front of his proud father and aristocratic family. He sees that determination in Mr Shelby's eyes; hell, it was the most prominent thing when you look at the man's eyes.
Seventy per cent of resolution and thirty per cent of what seems to be incurable sadness. Like he has a big hole inside of him, and he seeks to fill it with a crown, his success, his ... money and status.
As if the man didn't have the drive to be the successful man he is now, he would be dead already. Died because of the incurable sadness that's eating him from the inside out. The Duke's trance of thought was interrupted when Mr Shelby's gruff voice was heard.
"I have one more request, Mr Grosvenor. In return for the favour that I will introduce you to Mr Solomons for your interest in the liquor business." Thomas's eyes bore into the Duke's brown ones, reminding him of the Duke's daughter similar ones. Irene sure got his mother's beautiful structures and her father's eyes, judging by the photo on the wall beside the lord's desk.
A picture of the Grosvenors, nieces and nephews - who are now married off - included, with who seemed like, King George himself.
"What is it, son? I'm listening."
"I want your daughter, Lady Irene, to work for me. As the head of my legal staff, which I heard is her expertise, considering she studied at Oxford Law."
The look on the Duke's face was a picture Tommy wished he could paint. It was only for a fleeting moment, of course. The Duke is good at masking his expressions, nowhere near Tommy, but he would give an ovation.
Tommy had thought about this well last night, as he loves a reason for him not to sleep.
Lady Irene's position in his company will seem like a representative move, but it will help Tommy. The lady's wits and intelligent mind will not only win him cases his past attorneys couldn't and help him with the legal side of his business, but Tommy could also keep his eyes on his new business partner.
In this case, the Duke's treat of a daughter.
Tommy was perplexed as to why the Duke is still contemplating. This advantage will surely benefit him as well, as Lady Irene will be his trusted representative in Shelby Company, and he would also, rid of that spoiled daughter. Not to be insensitive - which he sometimes would strive to be.
But Tommy thinks all of the Duke's daughters, including his foster ones, are self-centred, bourgeois, egomaniac, but intelligent girls. If it was Tommy, he would say yes right away.
"Mr Shelby, surely-"
"And as my son's violin teacher, which I heard, she played the instrument excellently since she was ... five, was it?"
"She will be generously paid, of course. Not that she needs to, considering that she already has trust funds and shares and well, this as a part of her legacy." Thomas' hands gestured to the grandeur surrounding him.
Mr Grosvenor stayed silent, his head contemplating which is which. "You could, of course, decline, Mr Grosvenor. I will simply not introduce you to my dear friend Mr Solomons, who I heard, are now producing well over one hundred thousand gallons of rum and whiskey per week."
"Your daughter will not only be paid generously in addition to being one of her father's company's biggest shareholder and beloved daughter. But she will also be free to form her own staff where she could even hire her sisters or your foster daughters."
With one last puff of smoke, the thirty-three-year-old man in the navy suit smirked, "Remember, sir, great successes come with great sacrifice."